


Call Upon My Muse

by Zillak



Series: SidLink Prompts/AU's by Liz [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Artist/Muse AU, Everyone Is Gay, Link Uses Sign Language, Link is an edgelord, Link paints Sidon like one of those french girls, M/M, Punk!Link, Soft!Sidon, implied Mipha/Zelda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 19:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillak/pseuds/Zillak
Summary: Sidon Ruta has always been a shy boy, having trouble making friends and uses art as an outlet. Link is known as the trouble maker, a complete punk. Who knew they would get along?





	Call Upon My Muse

**Author's Note:**

> Punk!Link w/ Soft!Sidon. I just think it works better with their personalities.  
> Very long! Sidon POV (this was written while I was a stupid person and used first person. sorry)

Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I examine my reflection. Simple clothing, a cream colored sweater and red jeans. I nod my approval and run out of the house, backpack draped over my shoulder.

My sneakers smack against the pavement as I race to school, just a block away from my estate. I stop to catch my breath as I reach the wrought iron fence, the large iron archway creaks under the strong gales of autumn.

I breathe deeply and step inside school grounds. Large trees lined the walkway toward the steps leading into the school, shrubbery and animals scurrying about, preparing for the impending winter.

Groups of students file into the large brick building, old and weathered. I hear familiar laughter and immediately my heart stops, I hide quickly behind a tree.

Stepping on to school grounds are a particular group of friends. Notorious among the student body as the troublemakers, they always stomp down the halls and throw the dress code out the window. Accessorized with piercings, earrings, tattoos and the like, consistently in dark colors and confident in their demeanor.

The tallest of the bunch was Teba, his golden leer is harsh and intimidating, his lips stuck in a constant frown. He has dark skin, with platinum hair the sticks out in every direction. He is thin, not so much lanky as slender. Teba is captain of the school's archery team. Earrings shaped like feathers decorated his ears and his golden eyes were framed by black eyeliner.

Next was Midna. She is a strong willed girl, very tall and stubborn. Her hair is short and fiery red, her wore long, ripped, black leggings with jean shorts and giant boots that could crush bones. She has a long ripped sweater and her ears and eyebrows are pierced. Her arms are covered in tattoos of abstract patterns that date back to her heritage or so she said.

Finally, the assumed leader of the group, Link. He and Midna are attached at the hip. He's the shortest of the three, although the most intimidating. He is silent, never speaking in more than gestures and facial cues. His eyes are the deepest blue and his hair the brightest gold. His ponytail was low on his head, the hair at the qbottom of his skull was cut short in a flattering undercut. Piercings lined his ears from lobe to tip. His fashion was similar to his friends, mostly dark but with accents of bright blue.

The three stride into school grounds with utmost confidence and cockiness. Teba and Midna converse while Link, as usual stays silent, scanning the area as if he's awaiting an ambush.

The pass my hiding spot and I internally curse my heart. For making my heart thunder like this, just upon seeing him. That's why I avoid Link. We're just too different, he's rebellious and sly. Me, I'm shy and awkward, he would never return my feelings.

Thoroughly depressed by my own thought process, I walk into the school.

Loud voices and laughs drown out my thoughts. Chattering from groups of students and the lewd noises couples would make in the corner fill my ears and I sigh.

Approaching my locker, I hear people whisper about me behind my back as if I can't hear. I simply shrug them off, what more can they say? I'm already teased about my height, I've been called the jolly red giant more than I wish to disclose. My fashion choice is another subject on the chopping block, I like pastel colors. Creams, pinks, blues and the like. Apparently those colors are deemed as 'feminine'. But worst is my weight, with height comes weight, however most students apparently don't comprehend that. I'm not fat in the slightest, but people with always find something to complain about, always point out the shavings in your eye while ignoring the log in their own.

I store any unneeded books in my locker and slam it shut. I hold my textbook to my chest and stare at the ground, trying to escape the crowded hallway.

A group of girls pass me in the hallway, one of them smacks my elbow so my book falls to the tile. They all cackle and continue down the hall.

I sigh and kneel to pick up my book. While on my knees, I'm shoved from behind so I fall face first into the dirty floor. I grimace and sit up, I hear a jingle so I look up only to lock eyes with Link. I audibly gulp.

He squats in front of me, holding my book out to me. The buckles on his black aviator jacket clink together. I sat there frozen as he waits for me to retrieve my book. Link's bright blue eyes dart down at the book in his hand and back at me. His long ear twitches, the many earrings that line the entirety of the ear clink together, it was very distracting. Link's massive combat boots look worn, like they're very old. His ripped black jeans show the skin of his knee, he's sunkissed, unexpected from a kid of that stereotype.

With shaking fingers I take the book from his hands and hug it to myself. Link lets his hands dangle between his legs, forearms resting on his thighs. He jerks his head towards the group of girls and back at me, punching his own palm.

I furrow my brow, waiting for him to laugh and yell 'kidding!', but he looks dead serious, like with a wave of my hand he'll beat up a group of teenage girls.

Gaping, I shake my head. Link huffs, standing and walking away. After a few moments I compose myself and stand to walk to class.

••••

Lunch period was a challenge, people would bump their shoulders against me in an attempt to make me drop my tray.

I huff and seat myself at a long table. The same girl that shoved me in the hall, Veran, strides over and lays her hands on the table, her manicured nails tapping on the surface. "Be careful, you might break the bench with your weight." She cackles.

I ignore her and continue to poke at the slop that's labeled as mashed potatoes. Veran huffs and slams the table. "Are you listening fatty!?" She howls. I slowly look up, she smirks and flips over my tray of food. "You won't be needing this now will you? Maybe try a salad next time." She laughs and waltzes off, I frown at the mess on the table.

I hear a high pitched scream from the other side of the lunch hall, all eyes turn to see Veran, her bright red jacket covered in mashed potatoes. Midna stood in front of her, her now empty tray in her hands. She shrugs. "Oops~" she giggles insincerely. The hall roars with laughter. I sit there, awestruck until I feel a light tap on my shoulder.

Link stood next to me with a tray of food. He sets it in front of me and then turns on his heel to quickly walk away.

I look over at the fresh tray of food, a blush creeping into my cheeks at the considerate gesture.

I've known of Link for a long time, we attended the same middle school and now we are both sophomores in high school. We never spoke, well since he doesn't speak to anyone that makes sense. But we would always exchange glances in the hallway and we knew about each other. But Link has never shown any kindness like this before, not to say that he is rude, quiet and scary, yes, but not rude.

Needless to say I was confused.

••••

The second day of sophomore year I sat at my kitchen table, eating before school.

I held my phone between my ear and shoulder as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. "It's okay Sidon, just hang in there." My older sister Mipha's sweet voice soothed over the receiver. "Thank you Mipha, I don't know how you did it."

She's quiet for a moment. "I had friends, honestly Zelda helped me through it. You need someone like that in your life Sidon." She advises. I sigh, "I know Mipha it's just.......I don't really fit in." Mipha hums in thought.

"Maybe you just need someone else who doesn't fit in."

•••••

The school day went by normally, a little shove here or there but nothing horrific.

That is, until art.

Art was an extracurricular after school every other school day. It's an intimate group setting, that's my favorite part. No one judges the other and it's mostly casual. It was understood that art is the expression of oneself, so there is a comfortable  atmosphere.

The 'club' you could call it was held in a rec room adjacent from the library. The room doubled as a teachers lounge but kids were allowed to hold get togethers after school with the principal's approval. The room was rather large, with worktables to place our sketch pads and cushioned chairs. Large windows lined the side wall, showing the downpour outside.

The group was small, the teacher being Mr. Pikango. He was an older man, with silver hair which always had splotches of paint. The man was always painting, even during sessions he was painting with at least one hand. Usually he would paint the scene out the window or occasionally a student.

Paint splattered his face as he smiled at the group. "Hello everyone! Today is extra special! We have a new member of our little group!" Mr. Pikango announces eagerly.

He gestures over to the chair in the corner of the room, all eyes turn to see,  _LINK!?_

There he was, mister big boots himself. He sat in the corner of the room, hands buried in his oversized jacket and gaze downward. "Why don't we all introduce yourselves? I'll start with my name and a fact. Hello! My name is Pikango! I am your teacher and I specialize in watercolor paint. Next?"

A shy girl named Ilia stood next and followed suit. We went around the room until I stood. "Hello! My name is Sidon Ruta and I specialize in portraits!"

When it's Link's turn, he sinks lower into his chair. "And you are?" Mr. Pikango urges. Link sighs and lifts his hands, moving them in odd gestures none of us understood. "I'm sorry son I don't understand, can you speak up?" The teacher asks.

Link growls, his eyes livid. He abruptly stands and stomps over to the black board in the front of the room. He takes chalk and writes, in lovely cursive, a message.

_My name is Link Wild. I don't talk and I paint/draw full body._

Link cleans the excess chalk off his fingerless gloves onto his jacket before stomping back to his corner. I tilt my head at the message, not surprised necessarily because of the content, but mostly because he dotted his I's with stars.

It was cute.

Pikango nods, "ah yes, erm. Let us start our lesson why not?"

Every week Pikango assigns a theme, everyone must make any work of art fitting into the theme. Last week was role models. He scribbled on his canvas fervidly. "This week's theme will be dreams! Dreams could be interpreted any way you want. It could be literal night dreams or even dreams of your future. I can wait to see your creativity shine!"

My mind immediately begins to race about what I should make. "For now, we are practicing portraits: eyes and hair. Pull out your sketch pads."

The students obeyed, my sketchbook was light blue, with the white design of a trident, our family symbol. I glanced toward Link's. A deep brown cover. With raised detailing, tan, blue and orange, made into what appeared to be an eye with a single tear falling.

"The best way to practice is with a portrait, it doesn't have to be a specific person, a rough sketch is fine, we're mostly trying to convey emotions through face. Really emphasize the eyes in this, they are the gateway to the soul, a person's very being. And they are also the topic of this lesson." Pikango explains, eyes glued to the sketchpad in front of him.

I begin creating the outline of a head, framing the jaw before a neck. Once I establish a basic outline, I pause. Who should I draw? Someone random?

I look over at Link, feverishly scratching the parchment. I shrug, I'll just wing it.

I give my character long hair, but change my mind, not completely long. Maybe shorten it around the base of the head. I draw long bangs that hang in front of the forehead. Pleased, I move to the face. I soften the cheekbones, adding full lips and a small button nose. The eyes are large, slightly sad but hopeful. I tilt my head

This character seems familiar. But why?

I look to my side,  _oh._

Link looks over his page. Long, full, beautiful eyelashes gently brush over the soft curve of his cheeks as he blinks slowly. I gulp.

I didn't even intend to draw him! It just kinda happened. "Is everyone finished?" Pikango asks, my heart jumps into my throat. Oh no, Pikango will want to show the class!

"Mister Link? Why don't you go first since you're new?" Pikango asks. Link starts, eyes wide with fear. "I am asking you to present your art to the class." He explains. Link gulps and shakes his head stubbornly.

"It's alright, we won't judge you. Please show us." I can tell he's starting to get frustrated. Link awkwardly coughs and stands up, shoving his book in front of Pikango and sinking into his chair, seemingly about to implode in on himself.

The teacher looks over the book, going pale. He tries his best to hide any reaction as he turned the book around to show the class. When the book finally reaches me I gasp.

It's a self portrait, from head to torso. Link's arms are crossed over his chest, blood dripping from his fingers and mouth. The eyes looked vacant, yet detailed. Almost as if you could see the sorrow and suffering in them. The entire picture was detailed, so beautifully macabre. The attention to anatomy was exceptional.

He looked so real.

I finally pass the book back to Link as Pikango gives his review. I know I'm next and my heart is in my throat. I feel a tap on my shoulder, Link was moving his hands, trying to speak to me. I shook my head apologetically. Link huffed, bouncing the bangs on his forehead. He takes a scrap of paper and scribbles a message. He passes it to me, both ears twitching.

_Are you okay? I can hear your heartbeat._

I gulp. He can hear that? We Zora have bigger bodies and vibrant hair, Gorons are dense and extremely strong, Gerudo are mainly women and very tall and tan. Hylians have extremely sensitive, long ears. I guess to compensate for their universally petite bodies. The ancients believed that Hylian's had long ears to listen to the goddess's whispers.

I didn't realize just how sensitive they were.

I nod toward him and he returns the gesture. Passing the book to Pikango his eyes light up. "How wonderful! It looks just like him!" I gulp as the book is passed around. I could head stifled laughter and snickers. I bite my lip as Link looks over the page. His half-lidded gaze sweeps the page, expression blank.

He hands the paper to me and grips my wrist. He can probably feel my racing pulse, but Link just nods, appreciative. I mouth an apology but Link shakes his head, a small smile plays on his lips.

"Next!" Pikango calls.

•••••••••

As embarrassing as the one class was, it started a friendship between Link and I. We would meet almost everyday before and after school.

Today was another one of those days.

Walking through the iron archway of the school, I see Link. Donned in his usual dark clothes and massive jacket. He was sitting against the aged brick, covered in dying ivy as autumn slowly turns into winter.

He had his sketchbook pressed against his thighs as he hunched over, drawing fervidly.

I walk over and sit beside him. Link hums in greeting. "Hello my friend! Are you working on this week's project?" I ask, to which Link nods. The theme this week was your favorite animal. "May I see?" I ask. I've found it best to just ask Link yes or no questions. Just so he doesn't have to write everything down.

Link nods and I look over, on the page is a large hammerhead shark, surrounded by waves. The colors were bright, although unusual. The waves were normal, however the shark was a crimson red. I smile, "phenomenal work as always my friend."

Link touched his chin and extended his hand toward me, which I learned to mean 'thank you.'

"Hey look, it's the tub of lard with his emo retard."  Veran stood there, sneering down at us, tucked under her boyfriend's massive arm.

Her boyfriend was Ganondorf. He's a massive Gerudo, intimidating and fierce. He glares down at us and Link growls, hopping to his feet.

Link signed furiously at the two, which Ganondorf surprisingly understood. "Don't you dare say that! We won't apologize for stating facts." The Gerudo snarls. Link's eyes burn with fury, he strikes Ganon in the jaw, bruising the flesh and knocking him backward.

Ganondorf immediately retaliates, punching Link's cheek. I cry out but Link simply spits out some blood and continues his barrage.

A group of students have made a pseudo fighting ring around the two. Fists flying and legs kicking.

Link manages to get Ganondorf down, holding him by his long red hair. Link growls low and Ganondorf looks up at me. "I'm sorry." He spat. "I will never bully you again." Link seemed satisfied and released Ganondorf, glaring at Veran.

Link walks up to me, triumphant and smiles. I nod dumbly and follow him into the school.

"Thank you." Link smiles and nods.

•••••••

"For our final project, each of you will find a partner. I want a full body portrait, colored. My studio is available to every student here if they so choose. One of you will be the artist, the other the muse so choose your partner wisely." Pikango instructs as we pack our supplies.

Link taps my shoulder, holding a piece of paper.  _Partner?_ It read. I smile. "Of course! Shall I be the artist?"

Link shook his head violently. He pointed to his black eye from the fight with Ganondorf. I bite my lip. "Are you sure?" Link nods and I sigh. "Alright."

••••••

On the way to Pikango's studio, I call Mipha.

"I just don't know what to do! Whenever he's around I feel weird." I explain. Mipha hums over the line.

"Define weird."

"Well, he's really pretty and when I see him my heart beats faster. My stomach rolls around, my tongue swells and my cheeks burn. I stutter and get a weird tingling between my l-"

"That's enough!" Mipha cuts off my rambling. "Isn't it obvious? You have a crush!"

I gulp. "A-Are you sure?"

"Positive. Remember just be yourself, he obviously likes you." Mipha soothes. I sigh and bid farewell as I arrived the the studio.

It was a two story building, modern with large windows and the outside was an off white affair. I knock on the dark wooden door and Pikango flings it open. "I'm glad you made it!"

He ushers me inside and Link is already there, seated in front of a large canvas and painting bottles strewn about. We smile at each other before I notice the room.

Very large with lights on tracks attached to the ceiling. A black seat was in the middle of the room, a long couch but with a tall back and elegant fabric. I shoot a worried glance toward Pikango.

"I have evaluated you and have found the perfect model pose for you! So, take off your clothes!" Pikango announced happily as if that's normal. My throat goes dry.

"W-What?" I stutter.

"You have the perfect form for a full portrait of the natural body! Clothes aren't natural." He explains. I shake my head.

"No thanks." I state. Pikango shakes his head. "Fine, leave on your undergarments." I bite my lip and look toward Link. His expression was blank before he shrugged nonchalantly.

I retreat inward, bunching the ends of my sleeve in my fist. Crossing my arms in insecurity. Link stands and touches Pikango's shoulder. He jerks his head toward the door and the older man leaves.

Without the old painter's intensity and unrelenting enthusiasm the atmosphere of the room was calmer, safer. Link pats my arm in reassurance, his expression stomping away my insecurities. I slowly slip of my shirt and jeans.

Link stays reassuring and sweet. Leading me to the couch and positioning me where he wants. He puts my left arm over the rest on the couch, one leg on the cushion while the other dangles over the side. My right arm on my thigh. Over my hips is a long white drape. I blush heavily but Link smiles. Assuring me that everything was fine.

I nod. Link reaches forward and cups my chin. My breathing stutters but he simply tilts my head a certain way before adjusting the lights. His earring jingle as he sits behind the canvas, prepping his station.

Pikango returns and smiles widely. "Wonderful! You have quite the muse! I can't wait to see the artist at work!" The painter mover toward me and tilts my head back to its original position. "Your posture is exquisite! Hopefully you don't have to use the restroom." He chuckles.

"I must be off, you two can stay as long as you need." He offers, leaving once more. After tilting my head again Link begins to paint.

After about half an hour my heart hasn't stopped thundering. My embarrassment through the roof. Link scratches his nose, leaving behind a dot of red paint. I try to stifle my laughter.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this. I feel exposed and weird." I try to stand but I'm startled when Link speaks.

"Stop that, you're gorgeous."

His voice is deeper than I imagined, raspy with misuse. I gawk. "You can talk!?" I exclaim. Link smirks.

"Don't be parading that knowledge around."

"But the first class we had together you said you couldn't speak."

Link dips his brush in water before choosing another color. "I said I don't speak. Not that I can't."

I finally shut my mouth as he continues to paint. "Why don't you speak?" I find myself asking. Link shrugs. "Nothing to say."

Long after the sunset, Link decides I need a break. "We'll meet here tomorrow okay?" I assume. Link nods. "May I see the progress?" I ask. Link cheekily grins and shakes his head.

•••••••

Two weeks. That's how long it took before Link deemed it finished. The more time we spent together, the more vocal he would become.

I honestly felt special.

Mipha consistently teased me about my hopeless crush. It was agony.

Today is the day Link will show me his work.

Link called it his magnum opus, his masterwork. When he pulled away the cloth that concealed his masterpiece, I believed him.

The man made me look holy, godlike. Each minute detail was included. Each ridge of muscle, each eyelash and freckle. Every strand of crimson hair that flowed like a waterfall. The work was magnificent, that to rival the greatest artists of all time. I stand there gawking.

"I-It's-"

Link smiles sweetly, examining his work.

"Well, maybe this will help you..........see you the way I see you." Link whispers reverently

We lock eyes and my heart stops beating.


End file.
